


Born Under A Sign

by SCGirls



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demons, F/M, Kings & Queens, Priestesses, Priests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 10:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18915196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCGirls/pseuds/SCGirls
Summary: She was no closer to being broken than when she first arrived. Grabbing a nearby whip, he watched her eyes widened as he swung it at her with a satisfying crack followed by a cry of pain. A new, thin cut apart by her neck along her collar bone, a small thin sheet of blood followed. “Why won’t you fucking break?”It connects harshly with his skin, the tough material digging into the arm he put up to block his face from getting hit and knocking his straw hat off in the process. Gasps come from around the group as stern Red and Blue eyes glare up into the eyes of the slave owner. The man drops his whip immediately, a sudden grip of fear halting his actions.





	1. Break

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I are dumb as fuck so we made this story. 
> 
> Also, please note that the tags and rating are subject to change whenever I feel like! This is your first and only warning on this.

The leather collar around her neck was far too tight for her liking as her supposed partner jerked happily on the two leather cords bound to the thick leather. After checking the cords, he sneers, shoving her away from him and laughing when she went sprawling onto the ground with a small cry.

 

“Shut up, bitch.” he snarls at her, smirking.

 

She didn’t reply, sitting up carefully and giving the best-disgusted look she could muster as she clawed desperately at the leather collar, trying her best to breathe past its tightness. She made a face. This would be her collar for the rest of her pathetic life. Never again would the pale skin of her neck feel the gentle caressing breeze of the outside world. The collar around her neck was tight enough to rub and irritate her skin, just enough to make it hard to breathe, but enough to actually kill her. She felt disappointed. She’d rather die than be sold as a slave.

 

The blacksmith kneels, reaching out with a hand as though to help her up, but goes straight for the leather collar, checking once more it was adequately bound before standing up and jerking the younger female to her feet. Her partner snickers as the young woman cries out in pain, struggling to find her balance.

 

“Is it tight enough?” The seller asked, giving the collar a tug himself, though nowhere near as harsh as the man’s was. She curled a lip at him, her light blue eyes furious. In return, the blacksmith slammed a curled fist into her cheek for her rudeness, sending her reeling back. She whimpered, cradling her cheek despite the fury still burning in her glaring blues.

 

“Yes,” her supposed partner confirmed, giving a friendly smile to the seller. The seller shook his hand, counting out fifty silver coins. He partner places the silver coins in his ouch as the seller speaks once more, “Do as you wish with her, Kuro. She’s a disobedient brat.”

 

“Of course,” Kuro replied with a small sigh, reaching into the small satchel he carried, pulling out a chain. He hooked it to the small hoop that protruded from her collar, and the blacksmith laughed loudly at the sight. “Come on girl, we’ll take you to the Slave Market and get you sold, eh?”

 

The young woman responded by spitting at him, not even flinching when the blacksmith raised his hand again. “My name is not ‘girl.’ it’s Amaya!” She ignored the burning sensation of pain as her supposed partner’s fist connected with her cheek, only tasting the rustic taste of blood on her tongue when she accidentally bit it.

 

Kuro huffed, jerking lightly on the chain that connected Amaya’s collar, snickering slightly as she choked and was forced forward a few steps by the force on her neck. He fisted a hand in her raven colored locks, ignoring her outraged cry as he tilted her head back to examine her. “At least you’ll make a good woman to sell in the other trade if you don’t make a good slave.”

 

“Ozell would love a bitch like her.” Her supposed partner piped up as she scowled.

 

Kuro sighed a wistful look brushing over his face. “I wish he’d come back out again. He paid me three times the normal price.”

 

“Yes, a very good thing.” The blacksmith agreed, crossing his arms. “Now, take her away, please. The sight of her face is displeasing.” And with that, he turned and ducked back into his home.

 

~OoOoOoOoO~

 

Amaya gave a soft whimper as she rubbed at her sore throat. It had slowly begun to bleed as she was half-led, half-dragged through the hot sun and she was quickly getting tired of it. She was constantly reminded of the blazing hot deserts for the mainlands were famous for with every step she took against the searing sand. She shuddered when she saw the beautiful yet deadly cobra rears up in surprise not too far away. Though Kuro hissed and it disappeared into the sand. “Can’t have a snake being the death of what I paid for...” he mumbled to himself. “Cost too much money to die.”

 

Amaya glared at him, scowling. “Well I would like that very much,” she spat, tugging at the collar. “Death would be much easier, but I think I’d prefer death by the sword you have right there.” She waved at his treasured dark steel blade.

 

Kuro smirked, urging the demon horse he rode to continue picking its way across the hot sand. “Ah, but I am not so kind as to give a mere slave peace, now am I?”

 

Her temper flared and she gave a growl. “I’m not just a slave!” she spat. “That bastard was cruel and decided he’d rather sell me into slavery then-”

 

_Crack!_

 

Amaya gave a cry of pain as the large horsewhip the demon carried came crashing down across her cheek, sending her tumbling into the boiling sand, which scorched her back instantly A red welt along with blood appeared across the length of her cheek. “You ungrateful bitch,” Kuro hissed. “You are a mere slave. You should do as you are told and not talk ill about your previous owners!”

 

“He wasn’t my-”

 

_Crack!_

 

She moaned softly in pain as the whip cracked sharply across her stomach, leaving another lovely welt across the paleness of her stomach, which was revealed by her desert clothes. The red cloth had become torn long ago, barely covering what she needed it to cover. Kuro jerked harshly on the chain connected to her collar. Content to drag the screeching and sobbing woman across the scorching deserts as his horse snorted softly, sawing at the bit in its mouth, he hissed, “You can try to escape, but you’ll die within a day.”

 

“I don’t care what you do, I’ll get away. I want to get away and I’ll do it!”

 

“Good luck with that,” the Seller retorted. he contemplated what to do, glancing at the sun, as it was setting along the western horizon, meaning the brisk cool air of the night was approaching. With that would come the scorpions and the snakes, coming out while it was safe to do so without getting scorched to death. “Hurry up, girl!”

 

Amaya bit her lip, limping after him as best as she could as the sand continued to sear her burned and raw bare feet. Her gaze was lowered, her blue eyes clouded with misery.

 

When Kuro glanced over at her, his expression softened with a truly apologetic look, he honestly felt sorry for her, taking her freedom away, but he needed the money. He needed the money for his already starving daughter. So, ignoring her quiet sobs, he continues to drag her across the hot desert as though she couldn’t possibly be someone else’s child.

 

~OoOoOoOoO~

 

“Thank you,” Kuro said gratefully as he took the dwel from the friendly and fellow Seller’s hands, smiling at him. “I’m very grateful you’ve offered this much for her, I’ll be able to feed my family for quite some time.”

 

The other seller chuckled, returning the smile. “I have more than I need. I’m glad I’ve been able to help you.”

 

Ten days had passed since Kuro had dragged young Amaya across the mainlands, and how she found herself, face pale, in the middle of one of the kingdom’s popular Slave markets. Across the pathway from her, Kuro, and the other seller, and owner screamed at a cowering girl, who sobbed quietly, knowing of the punishment that was to come for whatever mistake she had made.

 

Kuro turned to Amaya with a grin, obviously not sensing her distress. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and one of the lesser folks will purchase you. They’re quite possessive of what belongs to them, you know. They take good care of them.”

 

“I don’t fucking care, I did nothing to deserve this!” Amaya replied venomously.

 

“Silence, woman!” yelled Kuro, causing her to shut up.

 

Amaya swallowed as Kuro walked away, looking in terror at the new seller, who roughly grabbed her chin, jerking her head to the side to examine her closely as a wail rang out from the poor boy nearby. Her gaze flickered to him, and she narrowed her eyes.  Jerking free of the seller’s grasp she rushed over, throwing herself in front of the small boy. Glaring at the owner, who stared back at her, stunned, she screeches, “Leave him alone!” Her voice rang out, silencing the blanket of noise over the Slave Market. “He’s a little boy for God’s sake!”

 

The owner blinks, and then curls a lip, revealing itself as a snake demon. “Out of the way, bitch; he’s getting what he deserves.”

 

Amaya ignores him, turning her attention upon the little slave boy, who wore a collar around his throat as well. The sign of slavery. And obviously, considerably looser than her own. “Are you alright?” she asked gently, crouching down and stroking the little boy’s cheek. “Don’t worry I-”

 

She broke off with a screech of pain as a whip cracked over her back, sending her sprawling. As she rolled onto her back, wincing, she stared up at the new seller with a dazed expression. “You!” he shrieked. “A slave doesn't just run off.”

 

Amaya scowled at him, forcing herself to her feet, ignoring the blood that now poured down her back. “I am not a slave.”

 

Laughter among the other slave owners who had gathered around to watch rang out and the seller reached over, jerking roughly on her collar, pulling her face with him. “This is proof, bitch. You are a slave. Therefore, you should act like one.”

 

“Kiss my ass!”

 

_Crack!_

 

Amaya cried out as she was slammed into the ground, cracking her head against the stone pavement. The seller glared down at her. “You’re obviously not trained and weren’t raised in the way of a slave,” he mused, jerking her back up by the collar around her neck, ignoring her outraged cry as he slammed her back down, twisting the collar so she choked. To the owner of the slave boy, the seller apologized, “Forgive me, sir, she’s not ready to be sold. She just arrived.”

 

The other man huffed. “Well, train her, and soon. We do not appreciate an untrained slave within the market running about.”

 

Amaya fought desperately to free herself, eyes fearful as the seller released her collar and pinned her to the ground with his food, snarling. “You need to be taught a lesson, so it appears.” he taunted. Amaya cried out in pain as he suddenly kicked her away from him, sending her skidding across the stone pavement. Blood streamed from the new wounds as she struggled to her feet. Her blue eyes continued to gleam with a cold fire.

 

The horsewhip cracks across her shoulder, and she yelps, shaved by the impact but remains standing. Her blue eyes blazed as she struggled to avoid the whip, though she was usually unsuccessful.

~OoOoOoOoO~

 

Amaya gave a soft cry in pain as she struggles to get comfortable in the room she was locked in with bars for a door. Gasping in pain as she jarred her bruised sides, she was pretty sure she had yet another cracked rib. It had been months, she was sure since she had been sold by her ‘partner.’ Her eyes begin to water once more as she attempts to look out the small, makeshift window that was only a hole covered by bars.

 

Her blue eyes water as she holds back tears, the saltiness burning her skin. She tries her best to be good to everyone. Everyone deserves a chance at life and to be happy, but why couldn't she? Why was she here, in Shusha as a slave in training?

 

She felt herself shiver against the cold ground, her body aching with every move she made. This wasn’t fair. Leaning her head on the brick wall behind her, she inhales the chilly air before sighing heavily. She wasn’t going to let them break her spirit as they have done to so many others, she would fight, she would get out, and she _would_ be free.

 

Amaya sucks in a shaky breath as she closes her eyes taking in the buzzing of the outside world. There was laughter coming from children who were with their parents as they shopped, the pleasant shrill of joy when they received a toy or sweet they had asked for. She thought back on when her father had given her this stupid hair clip, that no child would ever want to wear. It had tiny chameleons literally stack on top of each other in such a way that you couldn’t even tell they were separate creatures or a single being at all. He had this way of making the silliest of attempts at making her and her mother happy, that these normally soothing sounds began to ring in her ears, like the buzzing of a fly laying eggs in an infected wound. And they grew louder as the families passed by her small window into the outside world. The cheerful squeals of the children fill her ears, their happiness wasn’t contagious. Instead, it made her feel worse about her situation.

 

Her eyes stung as she thought about her parents. That stupid hair clip was just one of a few mishaps that made her family happy, despite its...outer appearances. She remembered how eventful their outings had always been because of his unique view of the world, even if they had just been shopping for food or other homely goods. Her mother, with all her grace, never chastised him for it and went along with his uncanny beliefs as they always turned out to better their family rather than harm them. There was this one time, her father had bought a strange array of fabrics with a goofy smile upon his face. It wasn’t until later that her mother had found out that he had made the ugliest set of kimonos for his two favorite girls. Amaya smiled to herself, remembering the look her father gave her when she had worn it for the first time. She hated the thing, but she loved to see him smile.

 

Her eyes shoot open at the sound of a horsewhip cracking against something, the cry of some unfortunate soul following after, bringing her mind back to the present. She was alone now. Her parents were dead, and her partner betrayed her. This was going to be her new life even if she didn’t like it. Her new human Seller, Rinji, interrupts her sulks through memory alley with a knock at her door, “What do you want?”

 

“You’re a rude little bitch, aren’t you?” Rinji stated flatly. He didn’t care for the girl. She was a defiant little thing and that only made his job twice as difficult. Why wouldn’t she break like the others? She was proving to be more of a challenge than what she was initially worth. Maybe he should have charged more.

 

“You’re the bastard who sells women, men, and children to other people so they can do what they please with them!” Her voice was hoarse, straining her throat as she snaps back.

 

A smirk graced his features, causing her to instinctively hold her breath. He enjoyed the fear in her eyes as she watched him. While she wasn’t broken, he still took pleasure in what he has done. “A human has to make a living too, you know. It just so happens this turns a pretty profit. And you, missy, will be worth your weight once I am finished with you.”

 

Amaya visibly flinched as Rinji smacked the bars before leaving. She quietly cursed under her breath as she looked out the window, the rays of light attempting to shine into the small room through the bars. She wasn’t sure when they would come to take her away to The Room in an attempt to break her once more, but she decided to risk this time to attempt to get some sleep. She learned long ago that once it becomes nightfall, the beatings tend to worsen.

 

It was dark when Amaya awoke, her room dark with the only light coming from the moon. Her whole body ached as she maneuvered herself into a sitting position. Her eyes didn’t take long to adjust to the dark, but it wasn’t like she had anything to look at, to begin with. All she had were her own bruises and the wall in front of her.

 

Amaya slowly stood up as best she could, feeling her legs shake in the process. She leans against the wall, putting all her weight against it in the process; just because she was weaker than normal didn't mean that she wouldn't fight her way out if she had to. For the umpteenth time, she made her way around the room in order to find anything useful. She wasn't surprised when she couldn't find anything. She wouldn’t be that lucky.

 

The sound of footsteps against the hard and rocky floor filled her ears, causing her to look at the doorway to see Rinji. The man in the doorway smiled sweetly, his eyes closed; it was a smile Amaya learned not to trust...ever. She glared at him, knowing why he was here. It was for the same reason he was here every night. To break her. “If you’re here to break me, try your fucking _best_.” Her voice was harsh, but hoarse due to her leather collar.

 

The man before her smiled as he unlocked the door into her cell, panic rising up in her chest. She knew where she was going. Rinji smiled, noticing her panicked expression before slapping her, causing her to fall onto the ground. “How many times to do I have to explain this to you. The first rule is to _not_ talk back to their master.” There wasn’t enough time for Amaya to get up before he grabbed her hair, lifting her head up. “Now, let’s teach you these lessons yet again.”

 

Amaya held in her cry of pain as he dragged her through the halls. She could feel all the bumps and rocks drag at her bare skin as the moved, only causing her more pain. It felt like ages before they entered the room, where she knew she would be spending the night. Her eyes darted around, trying to pinpoint where he would keep her. It wasn’t until he started to move again that she realized she would be chained to the wall, which seemed to be his preferred place for his victims. “Let me go you piece of shit!”

 

Rinji watched her struggle as he shackled her to the wall, chains clinging with her every move. He loved this sight, they were helpless and broke easily. Not this one, though. There was something about the fire in her eyes that he quite enjoyed, but it was growing troublesome with each passing night. She was no closer to being broken than when she first arrived. Grabbing a nearby whip, he watched her eyes widened as he swung it at her with a satisfying crack followed by a cry of pain. A new, thin cut apart by her neck along her collar bone, a small thin sheet of blood followed. “Why won’t you fucking break?”


	2. Annoyance

“I’m gonna fucking break something if you try to stop me from leaving,” A young male demon roars as he pushes the large ebony doors literally snapping at one of the guards with his sharp pearly white canines as the sun pours into the huge dark meeting room. He abruptly let’s go of the enormous wooden doors, four humans and demons on each side running to catch the doors before they harm anyone in the process as his white shoulder-length hair is blown wildly around his face from the breeze created by the doors.

 

The male grins, his claw-like facial marks shrinking in response, as he takes this moment to escape down the long cobblestone brick halls of the castle, two mismatch colored wolf ears with stripes standing proud atop his head at his marvelous escape. Generally, he did his best to keep the servants clear of his temper, at least out harm's way, but not this time. The meetings were driving him insane. The adults just keep going in circles about two solutions and never finding a middle ground, and to make matters worse they push his suggestions off to the side like their nothing, “Because you’re just a fucking little kid blah blah blah and you don’t know shit!” The young demon grabs a nearby empty pot and chucks it on the ground in frustration, glad he had the maids and butlers invest in fake pots.

 

He ruffles his hair in annoyance with two clawed hands as a small blur comes running around the corner. He clicks his tongue in irritation turning to the edge of the wooden guard rail facing the garden, of all the creatures he would have to interact with today between meetings and official princely bullshit. As he gets ready to leap over the small ledge a set of small taloned fingers reach into his hair and pull his unbalanced weight onto the floor beneath him with a yelp of pain and fury.

 

“You might be able to get away from the meetings, but there’s no way you’re about to get away from me Jaeha,” a child's voice scolds from above his pounding head. As his blurred vision comes into focus long snow-white locks of hair flutter down around him, two large mismatched circles peering down at him, “You’re needed in the throne room and I’m going to make sure you get there.”

 

Jaeha sits up abruptly, eyes slanted as he does so, “I’m not going to talk anymore on the situation that our country is in. I’ve been in those blasted meetings for hours now already, I’ve got to get out of the castle and you’re not going to stop me!”

 

Small-clawed hands pull at his black and white wolf ears, forcing his head back. His little sister was smiling cheekbone to cheekbone, “Oh you’re going to go to this meeting because you are fiercely loyal to this country’s well-being.”

 

He rolls his eyes, takes a steadying breath and moves his head hard enough from his younger sister’s hands to break free, grimacing at the dull ache coming from his ear, “They'll be fine if I disappear for a good hour or two. The county doesn’t need me to coddle it.”

 

Jaeha takes advantage of her pause and throws himself over the edge of the wooden rail into the garden. He uses one hand to catch himself and the other to loosen the blue silk tie holding the top garment of his sokutai, the blue silk ribbon untied and forgotten on the garden floor as he prepares himself to launch his full weight over the stone wall. Jaeha grins immediately at the sight of the wilderness as he reaches the full peak of the jump. He never really cared for the buildings of the new world, Jaeha thinks idly to himself as he lands on the other side of the wall. His nose is instantly filled with pines and florals, a sensation of pure joy washing over him followed by sheer annoyance as sweet invade his senses.

 

“I'm going to follow you until you get tired of trying to run away from me. The meeting is soon, and you need to get back in time to clean yourself up.”

 

Jaeha visibility rolls his eyes, continuing to wade through the forest. Was it too much to ask for so time away from the castle? They had been in these meetings one right after the other, droning on and on about how they needed to keep hold of Shusha for the trade market, but they refused to listen to any of his solutions. They chose instead to continue running in circles with their heads cut off ignoring anything he had to say.

 

“Maybe I should head back—” Jaeha begins.

 

“You most definitely should head back, the meetings tomorrow will mean nothing if you don't show up today,” his sister cuts in.

 

Jaeha makes a change in direction, heading into the woods where a path began to form. He heard his sister’s ramblings fall quiet as the path opened up to a small cabin amongst the trees. It looked rough on the outside, Jaeha knew this, but inside he had cleaned the place up enough to look taken care of.

 

“You wait out here, I don't want you ruining the place,” Jaeha says pushing the worn wooden door open, quickly closing it behind him as his sister began to protest.

 

Once in the silence of alone, Jaeha strips himself of his royal garbs and leaving them in the doorway as he heads in the direction of the only bedroom in the cabin. He quickly pulls on a plain black kimono and hakama, tying up his hair into an unruly bun, stuffing his stray white hairs into a straw hat. Jaeha looks into the cracked mirror frowning at the recognizable demon marks upon his face and his mismatched eyes. He ruffles his clawed hand underneath the front rim of the hat, white bangs falling in front of his notable blue and crimson eyes. Jaeha takes a deep breath and makes his way towards the only entrance into the cabin.

 

He pushes the door open with a huff, hoping to god his sister has just gotten bored of waiting around for but much to his displeasure she’s there. Blue and Yellow doe eyes are wide with surprise. His sister smiles widely at his disguise, “Oh my god, you look like a totally different person!”

 

Jaeha visibly cringes at the pitch of her voice wishing there was some way to soundproof his hat from her shrill. She actively looks over him, pushing and turning him different directions until he jerks out of her hold to start making his way towards the town. If they were going to be talking about Shusha, he was going to need to take in the state of their own slave markets and the trading that would be valuable to the castle and its people. Jaeha almost wished he had women's clothes in the cabin because if anything his sister would stick out like a sore thumb.

 

It takes them a little over ten minutes to get back to civilization. They come out of the woods near the trading district in Alryne, most of the items that are sold here come out of Shusha and are transported here or to other kingdoms in the nearby countries. As they step out into the crowds Jaeha turns to his sister with a toothy grin. The people loved talking with her, often showering her with compliments and small talk, all things she herself enjoyed doing.

 

His sister is about to shout something at him, but Jaeha is quicker, “Look it’s the princess!” a Couple heads turn, mostly belonging to young girls, eyes glittering with curiosity on the Princess's new knowledge had to bring them. The girls quickly separate him, a random ‘commoner’, from the precious princess. Jaeha grins back at her before he turns to push his way into the crowds, making a beeline for the less desirable districts of the castle.

 

Jaeha keeps his head down as he moves through the packed streets, the warm aromas of the bakery’s slowly changing into a pungent thick smell of disease. He needed to see the state slaves have been living in within the city walls. If they can’t take care of their own slaves and give them decent living situations, what rights do they have to storm into Shusha and take over their lands if they can’t even give every one of their own people?

 

As he continues, a sound catches his attention. Jaeha’s ears perk painfully against the inside of the straw hat, the piercings pressing into the skin of the leathery appendages. He moves through the sea of people getting closer and closer to the source of the sound, the distinguishable sound leather against the skin, the low growl coming from Jaeha when he hears the cry of a young child follow closely after.

 

It all happens in slow motion after he sees a slave owner use a whip on a young half-demon boy, tears welling up in his violet eyes as he tries to shy away from the thin leather. Jaeha jumps between the next crack of the whip. It connects harshly with his skin, the tough material digging into the arm he put up to block his face from getting hit and knocking his straw hat off in the process. Gasps come from around the group as stern Red and Blue eyes glare up into the eyes of the slave owner. The man drops his whip immediately, a sudden grip of fear halting his actions.


	3. Anxiety

Amaya felt herself crash against the hard cement underneath her, almost giving out a small cry of shock and pain. She held back tears as she attempted to sit up, her body shaking as she struggled to support her own weight, a pain she had slowly become accustomed to. Forcing her body upright, her back against the cool brick wall behind her, she did her best not to listen to the screams of the other captives. Her eyes closed slowly, forcing herself to take a long, shaky breath, her head ringing in the process.

 

The scream of what she could only assume was a child rang through the air, snapping her out of her daze. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the light of the room, the faded red brick of her “room” staring back at her. The ear-piercing scream rang through the halls once more. She wasn’t sure why the poor child was screaming, but she could give a damn good guess. Her attention changed to the footsteps that echoed through her hallway, growing louder as they came closer to her room. Her eyes fell onto a man who she learned from her time in The Room was a wolf demon named Noburu.

 

Noburu stopped in front of her room, his brown eyes gleaming with amusement. A toothy grin formed as his face as he watched the array of emotions flashing in her eyes. He placed the bowl of rice that he was holding onto the floor and kicked it toward the woman, watching her jump. “Eat, wench.” He watched her blue eyes glare at him as a smirk crossed his face, his tail swaying ever so slightly. The wolf demon watched the woman in front of him attempted to stand, her bangs falling in front of her face.

 

“My name isn’t ‘wench.’ It’s Amaya!” Amaya’s voice was hoarse, straining her vocal cords as she attempted to yell at the man on the other side of the bars.

 

By now, the woman was standing, her legs shaking barely holding her weight. The smirk never left his face as he eyes her, noticing her hair had gotten longer, it now down to her knees. Even in the dark strands of her hair, he could see the dried blood and dirt. “I would watch how you speak to your superiors, _wench._  Need I remind you that these bars are all that’s between me having my way with you, others too?”

 

Amaya bit her cheek, knowing he was right. There was _nothing_ from stopping any of them from doing what they wanted with her. Slowly, she made her way back to the ground, wincing as she bent her legs in order to sit. She glared at the bowel sitting next to her before taking it. What was the worst that could happen? They’ve tortured her for months—poisoning her wouldn’t come as a surprise. Hell, if they killed her now it would be a blessing. Cursing under her breath, the woman began to eat with her hands. “Do you need something else, wolf, or can I at least eat in peace?”

 

Scoffing to himself, she watched Noburu leave with one more warning about her tone. Eating, Amaya did her best to not listen to the screams ringing from down the halls. Now was not the time to give up hope. She would get out of here, no matter what happens. At least, that’s what she was promising herself. A tear runs down her face as she attempted to swallow the rice in her mouth. It felt like Amaya was eating sand like she was being drugged through the deserts again with nothing else to eat.

 

Amaya could feel her stomach churn at the thought before pushing it back. She needed to eat or else she wouldn’t survive this terrible place, and she _needed_ to get through this alive. She sighs as she forces herself to continue eating, her arms growing heavier as she moves them. Her more severe wounds have already begun the healing process, but her legs hadn’t healed properly from when they were broken.

 

She scans her legs, the paleness of her skin hidden by the dark bruises that have been forming over the past several months. She could feel the thumping of her pulse as she sat there, exhausted. She glances at her stomach, noticing how thin she had gotten since her time here. Through the holes in the rags she wore, she could see her ribs and the scars from her previous visitations to The Room. She soon took note of her arms, who seemed to have the worst of her wounds currently. The dried blood on her arms covered up her current collection of cuts and bruises. It took all the strength she could muster in order to eat, let alone do anything else.

 

Amaya closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall behind her. The screams of the poor child seemed to have died down, but the thoughts of what they were potentially doing clouded her mind. Was she going to be next? What were they going to do to her tonight? Can she even survive another round of torture? She shook her head, bangs flying in her face, trying to clear her mind. This was not the time to think about hypotheticals, especially when she knew the answers.

 

She glared at the empty bowel next to her, having finished her rice in her musings. Her stomach growls in annoyance, signaling she was still hungry. They were feeding her worse than if she were livestock; even they got to eat more than she had. A small growl-like sound tries to emerge from her throat in protest. Livestock had more freedom and rights than she did! Holding in a sigh, Amaya let her mind trail off into a dream-like state. Whatever rest she could get would be better than having nothing.

 

Amaya slowly opens her eyes, instantly taking notice of the change in the lighting of her room. Blinking several times, she looks up to her ‘window’ to tell the time; but she can’t. Her attention changes to the man standing at her door. She sends him a glare, clearly not in the mood for whatever he had to say. She tries not to wince as she speaks, not recognizing her own voice coming from her mouth. “What do you want, wolf?”

 

“Didn’t I tell you last time to watch how you speak to your superiors, wench? There’s literally nothing stopping any of us from doing what we please with you.” His light blonde tail sways towards the left as he speaks, his brown eyes gleaming with amusement. “Maybe we should teach you a lesson in obedience.” A smirk crosses his features as Amaya’s eyes widen.

 

Amaya stares at the man, his blonde hair shaggy and in his face. She wasn’t liking where this conversation was going and wished she could somehow get out of it. She can feel her heart rate increase as her breathing started to spiral out of control. Struggling, Amaya did her best to focus on the makeshift window above her.

 

The sky is blue. The clouds are white. There are white clouds in the blue sky.

 

 _Inhale,_ two, three four.

 

There are birds in the sky, she could hear them singing. It was probably around mid-day. She couldn’t see the sun.

 

 _Exhale,_ two, three, four.

 

These attacks never occurred until recently, and they left her shaking. Sometimes, she felt like these attacks could last minutes. Other times, they felt like forever. It had been harder for her to talk, to fight back, to scream recently…because she couldn’t speak. The collar around her neck, digging itself deeper as she lowered her already sitting body into a laying position. Breathing in, Amaya spared a glance at Noburu, his eyebrow arched in confusion or amusement; she couldn’t tell.

 

Hearing the click of the lock from her room, she glanced back up at Noburu, who had entered with a smirk on his face. “You look like you’re ready for it. So, let’s get started.”


End file.
